


A moment of peace.

by Makioka



Category: Jan Vedder's Wife - Amelia Barr
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Gen, Gen Fic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makioka/pseuds/Makioka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Snorro comes to the door of Margaret Vedder, and there comes peace between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A moment of peace.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voksen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voksen/gifts).



> This is intended as a prequel, but I thought you might enjoy it as it stands :)
> 
> Also thanks to inforpenny for looking it over at such short notice.

 

Margaret stood by the door her face set in stone, as Michael Snorro and his few possessions trudged wearily up, and stood in front of her. "Margaret," he said directly. "Will thou allow me entrance?"

 

Her voice was low as she replied. "Jan wishes it, therefore I shall welcome you to our house." There was a slight, but unmistakable emphasis on 'our,' and Michael winced on hearing it.

 

"Peace," he replied curtly. "I have no wish to take your house from you Margaret Vedder," and in his turn he laid strain on her married name, as though to remind her who she was and who she had married, and how her husband would wish her to treat him.

 

She stood aside and allowed him to enter, straight backed and head held high. "I know thou to be a man of honour," she replied in brief. "You succored Jan in his greatest need, and always you have looked for him. And in my need you helped me, though not for love of me. For love of my child, and of my husband. But still I owe you more than I can repay. Lodging and food is yours for as long as you wish it. Do not ask however that I must love the man who takes my husband from me."

 

He looked full in her face, and perhaps understood a little of what was there, for he softened as he spoke. "Nay. There is love enough for Jan from all of us, and love enough for you and the child, Margaret. I know what thou has suffered in some part," and he held his tongue rather than say what came so readily about how much of it he thought she had deserved. She heard the unspoken words, but she also heard that he did not speak them, and when she stooped to help carry his load it was an unbending.

 

Inside the house it was warm, and the child Jan, came to throw his arms around Michael, his old friend and companion, while his father laughing came forward to embrace him and welcome him to their home. "Bring the food and drink," he instructed Margaret, his eyes fixed on his friend, longing to sit by the warm fire and continue the conversation that could never end between them." Margaret's colour rose and harsh words rose to her lips though she choked them back.

 

Michael held up a restraining hand. "Nay Margaret," he said gently. "If I am to stay, it is not as a guest, and I shall help prepare our repast."

 

Jan stared with wide eyes at this truce between his wife and friend, but did not object when Michael with the businesslike tidy ways he had learnt as a bachelor living alone, began to swiftly arrange the room in just such a way as would most benefit them all. The table was neatly set in seconds, and child Jan laughing as with an elaborate twist he folded the napkins so they resembled a bird. Margaret brought forth the food with a smooth brow, and set the honey before Michael, who served little Jan with it first.

 

After the prayer and the meal, Jan stacked the plates and Margaret carried them out, while Michael briskly shook the tablecloth, and refolded the napkins, only then turning to Jan and with his slow wide smile indicated that they sit by the fire and converse. When Margaret came in, he stood and with an old fashioned courtesy odd in one so unlearned as Michael, he arranged her chair for her, and passed her the sewing with which she occupied her evenings during idle moments.

 

She did not talk much with them, for the conversation was mostly of ships and the fishing, and which men manned which boats during the season, but there was peace around the fireside, and little Jan was content, resting his head against Michael's knee, and half-dreaming of the day when he too would be a fisherman and have his own boat, (thoughts that would've horrified his mother if she had known them, since she had great ambitions for his education.)

 

Eventually the sleepy boy was packed off to bed, and the conversation turned to talk of the town, and who was doing what and when, a conversation Margaret could join with ease, even as she thought with amusement that men could not complain of women gossiping amongst themselves. What in a woman was called gossip, was in a man called chat. Michael was more silent here than either Jan or Margaret, his customary grave good nature not permitting him to speak ill of any folk, though he was a valuable source of information concerning how all the village was doing. Not many people did not know Michael Snorro, whether or not they valued him as a friend, and since he worked once more for Margaret's father for part of the time, he heard all the news first.

 

When it was time for them to go to the bed, he nodded to them both, and blew out the candles. Jan and Margaret did not speak, but they were in harmony together that night, Jan content that his friend had been welcomed, and Margaret filled with an unnamed relief that Michael had been as honourable as was his general wont and sought to include her in the deep and unrivalled friendship that he and Jan shared. She had always feared that if ever Jan were made to choose between her and Michael, that she would not win. The love between the two men was great enough to withstand the love that Jan had for his wife.

 

So it was with relief that she sighed in her sleep, and smiled. The next morning, Michael was up at dawn as was his general habit, living along he had, had to make do for himself with no gentle touches in his small abode. Margaret was awake early as well, as befitted a woman with a household to run, and although they did not speak she was grateful for the porridge that he had already put on, and the firewood neatly piled by the stove, as she went on her daily tasks, and she did not mind when Jan awoke and gulped down his breakfast before they both walked down to town. 

 

She was beating the rugs when they returned, a job she preferred to do in the dusk, rather than the day, reasoning that the slight moisture in the air would help, and could not stop herself from smiling as Jan showed her the sweet stuff he had bought home for little Jan, and the length of stuff that she had needed for a new apron. She thanked him, and tended to the piece of meat that was in the oven. Michael followed her to the kitchen, and on the table laid a little money, towards the housekeeping as he said.

 

Her first impulse was to refuse. They were perfectly well able to support Michael on their housekeeping budget, but when she looked at him, she knew that it would shame him if she were to decline. And so she thanked him, and said with a smile that it could go towards little Jan's clothes which he was nearer to outgrowing every day. An answering smile bloomed across his face, and in the house that night there was peace.


End file.
